


only seein' myself when i'm looking up at you

by braille_upon_my_skin



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 16:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braille_upon_my_skin/pseuds/braille_upon_my_skin
Summary: "They're the prickliest people at the institute. Abrasive, argumentative, oftentimes ill-tempered, and just all around not the easiest people to get close to. A couple a real hedgehogs, the pair of them.Yet, in spite of all that, they have a bond."





	only seein' myself when i'm looking up at you

**Author's Note:**

> After a number of years, I've finally rewatched _X-Men: Evolution_ in full, and while I was and still am, to some degree, a Scott/Rogue shipper, at least within the parameters of this series, it was the relationship between Rogue and Logan that most ensnared me this time around. 
> 
> Said relationship can be interpreted as platonic, or pre-romantic (as Rogue _is_ still a teenager and has a lot of growing up to before anything could feasibly happen, here), in this work. 
> 
> And, as a final note, I'd just like to add that Kurt Wagner is the sweetest, cutest little blue fuzzball, and his sibling dynamic with Rogue is terribly underrated.
> 
> \-- 
> 
> The title was taken from the Troye Sivan song, "Blue".

"Logan?"

It's impossible for anyone to sneak up on him. Enhanced senses, and all that. But, it's common courtesy long-instilled to announce her presence when she approaches someone whose back is turned to her.

"Rogue?" He says her name with an uncharacteristically soft tone that does funny things to her stomach. Twists it up and makes it flutter- not unlike a certain uptight, upstanding team leader who's finally dating the red-haired girl of his dreams, once did.

Rogue's no "Miss Popularity". Not by a long-shot. But, somehow, this gruff, hard-edged, sometimes feral man talks to _her_ that way.

He fixes his eyes on her, evaluating, no doubt trying to figure why she's come to him.

Her hand finds its way to her hair, fingers curling into thick white locks and pushing them back. She wonders if he can detect her shyness. Smell it on her skin. "I, um **…** I wanted to thank you. For trusting me with taking out Apocalypse."

His lips twitch into a smile. A rare sight **…** And one that she's sure she sees with more frequency than anyone else at the mansion. "Don't sweat it, kid."

"No, I-- I mean **…** " It _is_ something to sweat over. Buckets full. Like Kurt said: _"The girl who shut herself off from the world, just_ **saved** _it."_

But, she didn't do it for the world. For humans? She's not too sure about that. For mutantkind? Maybe. If she were more altruistic than she knows she is. For the X-Men, her family? Yeah. She could buy that.

Or, maybe, possibly, she did it because Logan asked her to.

They're the prickliest people at the institute. Abrasive, argumentative, oftentimes ill-tempered, and just all around not the easiest people to get close to. A couple a real hedgehogs, the pair of them. (No insult to Evan, their resident "Porcupine", intended.)

Yet, in spite of all that, they have a bond.

When she was at her lowest, her weakest, the free-roaming personalities having a field day in her brain, Logan was there to encourage her to take back control.

When the Professor helped her evict those personalities one by one, Logan was right there, ready to catch her. And, he stayed there, by her side, watching over her and holding her hand in the med bay. Building her back together piece by jagged piece.

Sure, Kurt, Kitty, Ororo, and even Scott and Miss Popularity, herself, stopped by with stories and jokes and words of encouragement. But, it was Logan she could count on to send them away when their cheerful voices and smiling faces became overwhelming and made her want to burrow into her blankets and fold her pillows over her ears to keep more people out of her head.

Logan, who would never consider himself any sort of therapist- "I ain't exactly Dr. Phil, kid"- peeled back his own grizzled loner exterior to comfort her when Mystique, her and Kurt's so-called "mother", brought her world crashing down around her.

So **…** yeah. Maybe it _is_ accurate to say that she took on such a major role in the mission that would, without any exaggeration, determine the fate of the entire world, because Logan wanted her to.

And, that required a whole lot of trust in a sulky, withdrawn, not always emotionally mature, and prone to making some pretty rash and questionable decisions, teenager.

"It _was_ a big deal." She takes a step closer, inches away from the border of the fountain- which he's leaning against, so, inches away from _him_. "It _is_ a big deal. I doubt many other people would've had that sort of faith in me."

Shifting upright, he turns his whole body to face her. "You're just as reliable as any other member of the team. There's no reason not to have faith in ya."

She let Mesmero control her and use her to bring back Apocalypse. She almost _killed_ Mystique.

"I don't exactly have a track record for making the best decisions."

He grunts, something close to a dismissive laugh. "You could say that about anyone. And, if they argue otherwise, they're lyin' to you, and themselves."

Okay. He's probably right about that.

But, still **…** Her insides feel squirmy, self-loathing churning her stomach. She wraps her arms around herself, deadly skin her one protector. Her best protector. At least until **…**

Logan's hand, big enough to cover her shoulder, makes contact, his fingers centimeters away from the bare skin exposed by the cut of her shirt.

She wonders how a man with a metal skeleton can move so silently. And, be so gentle.

"You're a lot better a person than you realize, Rogue."

She chews at the inside of her lower lip, rebuttal on the tip of her tongue, eyes not quite able to meet his. "Thanks," she murmurs. But **…** But **…** "But I'm not sure I can believe that."

"No." He sighs. "And, I'd wager you're not the only one."

That's enough to jerk her out of her brooding. To make her raise her eyes and _really look at him_. _Of cours_ e he would know. He has a past. A dark one. One that goes back long before his employment, here, and has him tangled up with a creep like Sabertooth, and fighting against programming by sickos in a lab who meant to turn him into nothing more than a weapon.

Without a home, or a family, or even free will.

If misery and suffering were a contest, he'd have all of them beat.

And, that's what makes it all the more significant that he tries his hardest to rein in his inner animal so he can be a teacher. And, a protector.

And, part of the family.

_Rogue's_ family.

"Maybe **…** we have some skewed ideas about ourselves," Rogue says slowly, carefully.

It must have been the right thing to say, because a glimmer of light, of warmth, the same kind he reserves for her and only her, sparks in Logan's eyes.

She feels so _proud_ of herself for putting it there. So _happy_ to see it. Her stomach kicks into some serious flutters, and she can't even find it in herself to be embarrassed. Even when she impulsively flings her arms around him in a hug, returning the unflinching, unafraid physical contact he's always given her. "Which is why we need the people we care about to help set us straight."

They're about level with each other in height- he's short of stature, but that doesn't make him any less lethal in a fight. Or, any less of a fierce protector, in her eyes. Always able to bring her back from the brink- so her hair is touching his rough, stubbled cheek as she presses her face into his clothed shoulder. For a fleeting, heart-stopping second, she wonders if that's enough of a barrier. Enough to stop her deadly skin from activating and taking pieces of him, too.

Either way, he doesn't seem to care. The barrel of his chest rumbles with a low, fond note, and then his arms are enveloping her, and **…**

She's forgotten how nice, how _special_ something as simple as a hug can be.

Tears, unfamiliar because they're fueled by happiness, prick and mist her eyes. The Wolverine and the Rogue with the skunk-striped hair. They certainly are quite a pair; somehow able to flatten their hardest, deadliest spines for each other.

She smiles, tightening the embrace as much as she dares, and feels the muscles in his face shape a smile, too, as his strong arms keep her close, supporting her, like he has and will continue to do, for hopefully a long time still to come.

The tone of his voice is proud. Proud of _her_. "Well said, kid."


End file.
